Letting It Win
by XmagicalX
Summary: If one looks deep inside with honest eyes, can any real difference be seen between man and monster?


I must be inspired! Came up with this on the commute from work   
last Friday and had to scribble it down. It's not at all   
related to "For the Good…" (more of that will be coming, as soon   
as I convince myself it's worth writing fanfic when the show is   
giving us such fantastic stuff already..!)  
For now there's this:  
  
------  
  
Letting It Win  
  
XmagicalX ekarr@bowdoin.edu  
  
  
We're all insane. It's because we're human.  
  
There was a time, those twilight teenage years between childhood   
and maturity, that I experienced this truth directly, visceral   
and awful. When I had been alone for long periods of time - and   
in certain situations I had little else to do but think - I felt   
something inside me. A beast. A monster. Not one which would   
devour me, but rather everyone else. My dark side. All of us   
have one, they say, but mine existed more vividly than most.  
  
I ignored it. I suppressed it, bottled it deep inside and   
forgot its existence.  
  
It took me entirely by surprise when it was released.  
  
Afterwards I tried to deny it. To say this wasn't me at all,   
but something external, a force outside myself which displaced   
the real man. That it had not been I who hurt, who could have   
killed. This violence was not my own.  
  
Stupid. It had always been mine.  
  
Do you know how it feels, to see pain in those you loved? It   
stabs through your own heart like a knife, an agony almost   
physical in its torture. And every flash of fear in their eyes   
afterward twists the blade deeper into you.  
  
My brother was better than me. I realized it when I was young,   
too young to identify the quality that divided us. But I knew   
he was loved more, in some indefinable way, for all that we were   
shown the same affection. For all that I was his better in many   
ways, he bested me in all their eyes. Responsibility, perhaps.   
A righteousness lacking in me.  
  
When we played, he would build towers, and I would knock them   
down. Sometimes he would cry, and they would slap me, but I   
would do it again the next time. Seeing his tears would make me   
superior, for all I was the younger. I ignored the pain that   
the sight would also spark in me.  
  
I don't avoid pain anymore.  
  
It doesn't matter how intelligent you are. Like everything, it   
only matters what you do with it. Wasted potential, they said.   
But he wasn't fighting a thing inside. His was deep, concealed.   
Buried. Not active like mine. Not restless. How was I to be   
anything, wrestling with it?  
  
I have superiority now, of a sort. They're scared of me, my   
colleagues. They know. Not immediately. But the first time   
they witness me lose control, even for a moment, ever after I   
see the fear in the far depths of their eyes.  
  
Do you know what that's like? When everyone around you, even   
those closest, are frightened by what you are? By what you   
could do?  
  
They have reason to be scared. I am human. Sooner or later,   
madness comes.  
  
Do you know what it is to lose control?  
  
To lose control, they say - as if control can be misplaced, like   
a sock or an umbrella. To lose one's temper, to lose one's   
head. It's not the things that get lost; it's your own self   
which wanders.  
  
If you go too far, you can't return. But you never can as it   
is. Whatever road you set your feet on, you must follow it. So   
is the nature of life. Keep walking. Finally you'll arrive at   
a crossroads.  
  
Two paths before you: Liberty. Morality.  
  
Be careful. They are mutually exclusive; to choose one is to   
deny the other. And both are cages. One will bind you to two   
choices, good or evil, right or wrong. The other offers so many   
choices that you will never get the freedom to decide, but   
always go with what sweeps you along.  
  
Be careful. One way brings only grief. The other can bring joy   
as well, if you understand it.  
  
I chose wrong once. But I don't dwell on past mistakes. And I   
won't make that one again.  
  
To commit myself finally opened my mind; at last I was able to   
truly learn. Before I had drifted, lighting but briefly on the   
ideals of intellectualism, on the works of past genius. Now I   
had the focus to devote myself to education, enlightenment. I   
absorbed knowledge like a sponge, and unlocked my personal brand   
of genius, my own comprehension.  
  
Don't be afraid of pain. Too many are. But it's feeling. It   
tells you that you are alive. When you slip into the abyss,   
it's only by the thorns scraping your hands that you know you   
are falling. It's only by the shattering impact that you know   
you've hit the bottom.  
  
The monster is real. Don't doubt it. And don't think you can't   
fight it.  
  
Don't believe you'd want to, if you really understood.  
  
They look at me with fear because they know the truth of what I   
am. The honesty of my existence. I can lie; it does not change   
me. I can play a thousand roles, and still be my very self. My   
desires, my wishes...they're real to me. And what else is   
there?  
  
They're frightened of me, and every nervous glance they cast my   
way stings. Every time I hurt them, every hurt I give myself -   
everything is added. Pain is never supplanted, only   
accumulated. Everything builds.  
  
Do you know how that feels?  
  
It's the deepest truth. It's the purest liberation.  
  
It's ecstasy.  
  
There's nothing I can't do, and nothing I don't want to.  
  
Last week I heard something intriguing. In the United States a   
scientist named Kevin Fawkes has developed a fascinating   
creation. I know of people who will be most interested in it.  
  
I think I'll help him. Change my name and join his project.   
Obtain what they want. And see as well if I can't share this   
gift. This liberty. This...triumph of reality...  
  
  
fin  



End file.
